Crushing It: A Love Between the Bases Novella

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Anything I should know before I drift off?” he murmured. “Those are some heavy sighs you got going on.”

  “No, I’m good. Worn out, but good. Really, really good.” She could have added many more “really’s” on to that.

  “Good,” he murmured, smoothing his hand up and down her back. “Because when we wake up, we need to have a serious talk about how and when we’re going to do this again.”

  She drifted off smiling.

  Chapter Eight

  Even a night of passion in Crush’s king-size bed wasn’t enough to erase the tension with Teri. She and Wendy were in a standoff. The girl wanted to know more about her father and Wendy didn’t want to tell her. Simple as that. She hoped that giving her some basic information would help, and it did. Teri now knew that Manuel had left Cuba for political reasons, that he’d worked as a security guard, and that he’d gotten waylaid by drug addiction.

  She figured that was important to know, so Teri could avoid all illegal substances. It turned out her daughter was way ahead of her on that one.

  “I never touch anything like that, so I guess I’m not like him at all, huh?”

  “You’re not,” Wendy told her firmly. “Not in the least.”

  “It’s not like I want to meet him or anything. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I want to just see him. Tell him what a jerk he is.”

  “Believe me, nothing good can ever come from it, Teri,” Wendy said gently. “You’d be better off going back to Brownsville and forgetting you ever came here.”

  “Is that what you want?” Teri gave her a wounded look from those big brown eyes.

  “No,” Wendy said quickly. “Absolutely not. I love having you here.”

  “Even when I pester you?”

  Wendy had to laugh at the girl’s sass.

  After that, Teri dropped the topic and turned her full attention to her training.

  Crush told Wendy that he was aiming to hold a private tryout just before spring training. That gave him only a few weeks to adjust her mechanics, bulk up her strength, and drill her in the new pitches he’d taught her. He’d relocated her sessions from Bullpen Ranch to Catfish Stadium, and brought Al, the team pitching coach, in on the action. He explained all this during one of their all-too-few stolen moments.

  It turned out that it wasn’t easy for a mayor and a famous pitcher to see each other in secret, especially if said mayor didn’t want her long-lost daughter to know about it. Wendy felt like a furtive teenager every time she snuck out of the house or dropped by the stadium.

  “Do you know how many big league pitchers would like in on the stuff I’m teaching your daughter?” Crush asked, nuzzling Wendy’s hair in one of the stadium’s rabbit-warren-like corridors. She’d stopped by to watch Teri in action, but Crush waylaid her the second he saw her.

  “A lot, I’m guessing?”

  “Yeah. Maybe all, if they were honest. I’m passing all my deep dark secrets on to her.”

  “That’s nice and all, but I keep wondering, just why are you doing that?” Breathless, she tilted her head back so he could kiss his way down her neck.

  “Maybe it’s to get her mother into the sack.”

  “Oh, stop that. Her mother has no problem getting into the sack with you. You knew I’d get there eventually. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “Yeah, well.” He swirled his tongue across her pulse point. “Maybe I’m not ready for Cooperstown yet. I’m not done. I want to make my mark.” With that, he bit lightly on the tendon along her neck. She shuddered with pleasure.

  “Make your mark?” she repeated faintly. Something felt off about that response, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, especially when he was stroking sweet fire along her skin. “Haven’t you made your mark? I thought that was what the Hall of Fame was all about.”

  “It is.” But he didn’t explain further, and she completely lost her train of thought when he nudged his thigh between her legs.

  Later, still a bit disheveled, she applauded and jumped up and down when she watched Teri throw bomber after bomber right over the plate.

  “Teri, mind if I ask you something?” she asked over a big plate of after-training barbecue. “Why do you want to do this? It looks like a lot of struggle and hard work. And no matter what Crush does, there’s no guarantee the Friars will take you. I did some research and most of the women who have made it onto minor league teams are in independent leagues. The chances that they’ll actually put you on the team are extremely small.”

  “I know that.” She shrugged in a jaunty way, even though her smile wobbled. “But you never know. What are the chances that I’d stumble across Crush Taylor in a park and end up getting trained by him?”

  “I guess that’s true. But he’s not Superman, you know.” She stabbed a bit of coleslaw onto her fork. Crush might not be Superman, but he came close in bed. Not that she wanted to think about that around Teri—she didn’t want the girl to know how hard and fast she was falling for Crush.

  “In the baseball world, he sort of is,” Teri said candidly. “Or maybe like an old, retired Superman.”

  Wendy bit her lip to hold back a laugh. She could just imagine how Crush would react to that description.

  “I’m just not sure why he’s doing all this. He says it’s to prove he’s pro-woman, or maybe it’s to make his mark—I don’t know.”

  “What difference does it make?” Teri put down her pulled-pork sandwich. “I’m doing this for me, not him. Baseball’s always been my thing. It’s like my…” She cocked her head, as if trying to find the right word. “Best friend. Whenever I want to think, or escape, or work something out, I gotta have a ball in my hand. That’s when I’m the most ‘me.’ Know what I mean?”

  Wendy’s heart nearly melted. Teri was actually confiding in her instead of grilling her for information. “I do. And I’m so happy you have that. I had my journals. I’m not sure what I would have done without them.”

  Teri nodded, but her capacity for non-baseball conversation had run out. “Can you believe the tryout is in two weeks?”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Yeah. Kind of. No. Maybe. I got nothing to lose, right?”

  “Nothing to lose,” Wendy agreed. God, she hoped that was true. And she hoped that Teri would put the issue of Manuel out of her mind once and for all.

  * * *

  Wendy wasn’t allowed to attend the tryout. Crush wanted to keep it absolutely private, claiming he didn’t want it to become a circus. Crush flew his private plane to Houston to pick up the two Friars scouts. Wendy went to work as usual, though she performed her mayoral duties on autopilot. Crush had promised to call her with the news, good or bad. When her phone finally rang, she was in the middle of a meeting about a new neighborhood watch initiative.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the group. “I have to take this, I’m afraid it’s an urgent family matter.”

  Since everyone knew she didn’t have a family, they looked at her curiously as she stepped to the side. “Tell me quick,” she ordered him.

  “It’s good news, mostly. They’re going to sign her to a provisional contract.”

  She stifled a shriek of excitement. “Provisional? What does that mean?”

  “It means they’re not a hundred-percent sold. They don’t know if she can take the heat that’s going to come her way. They want to make sure her heart is in it. “

  “Of course her heart is in it. Baseball is her whole life!”

  “I know. It’s bullshit. They’re just covering their asses. But the main thing is, they signed her. That’s a first for the Friars.”

  “So she won’t be on the Catfish?”

  “Her contract is with the major league team. They decide what team to assign her to based on how well she does in spring training. She’ll play alongside the Catfish, the Friars, the Porcupines, all levels. They all work out together.”

  “Well, that’s fantastic. How’s she doing?”

  “Flying high. She’s tal
king to my agent right now. There’s not much to hammer out. It’s a bottom-barrel minor league contract.”

  “Still, that’s amazing, right?”

  “Yes. It is.” She realized that he sounded exhausted. “Should I sneak out of the house tonight?” She whispered into the phone.

  “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. We’ll celebrate.”

  How could she resist that invitation? She couldn’t. At the ranch that night, they celebrated Crush-style, which meant a feast of sexual splurging. Nothing was off-limits. He spread her open, face down, and had her grip his headboard while he licked his way down her spine, across the globes of her ass, along the tender skin of her inner thighs. She came to a shuddering, gasping orgasm on his tongue. After that he pulled her rear into the air, made her rest her weight on elbows and knees, and took her like that. With his pillow muffling her moans and her body a toy in his rough grip, she detonated again, in time with his guttural release.

  Even after all that, she wanted more. Would she ever get enough? And would she ever be able to get her self-protective walls back up now that he’d plowed right through them?

  Chapter Nine

  Teri’s first spring training game was scheduled during the Texas Mayors Conference, at which Wendy was giving a keynote address. So she didn’t make it to spring training camp until about a week after it kicked off. Crush flew her to Arizona in his private plane. If he was trying to impress her with his manly and expensive toys—well, it definitely worked.

  “Teri’s doing really well,” he yelled over the din of the engines as he piloted the plane over the vast plains of West Texas. “The guys are impressed. They’re treating her like their favorite little sister. Eli Anderson’s been giving her tips. You should see them when the other teams try to get into her head. Gonzalez—he’s the big tattooed dude who plays third—stands behind her like he’s a bodyguard. Dwight Conner starts talking trash right back at them. Bieberman gives her lectures on how the flight-or-flight response affects brain chemistry. I’m telling you, these guys…”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to miss them when they all get called up this year.”

  “All?”

  “Conner’s a lock, and Lieberman’s got a good shot. He put on about thirty pounds of muscle but he hasn’t lost a whisker off his glove speed.”

  Wendy didn’t really understand the nuances, but she’d grown to like hearing him talk about baseball. His passion was infectious, and since she’d experienced his passion in other areas, she found it a turn-on when he got so fired up.

  Dating a man who could afford a private jet, but preferred to fly his own plane…a man the public adored, but who was intensely private…a man who could be raw and crude one moment, and unbelievably sensitive the next, was an adventure all by itself. Crush made her head spin with all the different layers of his personality.

  On the field during the warmup, the Catfish players gathered near the dugout and greeted her with their usual raucous brand of teasing. “Is that what we gotta do to get some attention from City Hall?” asked the catcher they called Killer. “Turn into ladies?”

  “You’d never hack it as a woman,” Dwight Conner teased. “I’ve seen you in heels. That Halloween party? My eyes are still bleeding from that.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve never made it to spring training before,” she told them, smiling. “To be honest, I never knew it existed until Teri got involved. But you’re the championship team, so I’m proud to be here.”

  “Repeat, baby. Repeat.” Conner high-fived Jim Lieberman, who had just jogged up to join them. “Right, Beebs?”

  Bieberman shook Wendy’s hand, while she nearly whistled at how much fitter he looked. “It’s an honor to have you here, Mayor Trent.”

  “Why, thank you.” She smiled at his politeness while the others snorted.

  Eli Anderson shook her hand too, then opened a pink bakery bag and offered her a baseball-shaped cookie. “Please take this. Take a bunch. Do you know how hard it is to get into game shape when you’re engaged to a candy maker?”

  “Caitlyn is not just a candy maker,” said Conner solemnly. “She’s a candy artiste. A maestro of sugar. A superstar of sweets.”

  Eli laughed. “No arguments here.”

  Trevor Stark sauntered up to them next. The last time Wendy had seen him, the blond Viking warrior-type had been tying a longtime hitting record. “Trevor, nice to see you. I guess this is my last chance to watch you play, now that you’re a San Diego Friar, right?”

  “Yup, just a few more weeks hanging around in Arizona, showing these guys how it’s done.”

  The others booed and flipped him various forms of the finger.

  “Already winning friends, Stark?” Mike Solo, the popular curly-haired catcher, punched him on the arm. “Shouldn’t you be trying to look good in front of your future father-in-law?”

  Stark turned red and shot a glance at Crush, who was listening to the byplay with folded arms and a forbidding glare. “I’ll be a good little angel,” Stark muttered. “Paige made me promise.”

  “So, uh, Trevor,” Bieberman said nervously. “Since it seems like a lot of people’s family members are here, like the mayor’s here for Teri, and Crush is here…well, okay, it’s not exactly the same, but, you know, do you think Nina might want to see what spring training’s,” he ended with a squeak, since Trevor was now nose to nose with him, “all about?”

  Trevor stared him down. “You don’t say the name Nina, you don’t think the name Nina, you don’t—”

  Dwight pulled Trevor away from Lieberman and placed himself firmly between them. “The answer is yes, Beebs. Nina’s coming down for a few games. We’re already stockpiling Zoloft for my man Stark here.”

  Nina, Wendy knew, was Trevor Stark’s little sister, who had been briefly kidnapped along with Crush’s daughter. Okay, so the kidnapping had only lasted about an hour and they’d been inside Catfish Stadium the entire time. But it had been a shocking thing to happen in Kilby. Trevor was notoriously protective of his sister, so she decided to shift the conversation to someone else.

  “Dwight, Crush says you may not be with us in Kilby this year. We’ll miss you.”

  Dwight clapped his hands over his ears. “Take that back. I didn’t hear that. No one heard that, y’all. Right? We’re talking about Nina. Nina and Lieberman. Paige and Trevor. Nothing about me.”

  Everyone mumbled and backed away. Crush shook his head and steered Wendy away from the group.

  Bewildered, she gazed up at him. “What? What did I say?”

  “Dwight’s a little superstitious, that’s all. Most ballplayers are, you know. He thinks it’s bad luck to assume you’re going to get called up.”

  ““Oh. I didn’t mean to upset him. He’s one of the most popular players in Kilby, that’s all. We really would miss him. Can I go back and—”

  “Better let him be.”

  After a last glance at Dwight, who was now morosely practicing his swing, Wendy let herself be dragged away. “I will never understand baseball. Dwight is an intelligent man, right?”

  “Extremely. Graduated from college with an honors degree. Wrote his thesis on class structure in America or some shit.”

  “And yet he thinks I can jinx his chances with one silly comment?”

  “It’s baseball. Facts and figures only take you so far. Then there’s the mystical element. Superstitions, legends, faith, magic, destiny. That’s the heart of baseball.”

  She regarded him with astonishment. “Are you being serious right now?”

  His hazel eyes gleamed at her. “I’m always serious about baseball. Now come on, let’s find our seats.”

  The Friars and Catfish split into two teams, with Caleb Hart pitching for one side and Eli Anderson the other. Teri didn’t pitch until the very last inning. Watching her daughter pitch to real professional baseball players was surreal. Her short, curly ponytail bobbed every time she whipped the ball toward the batter. Every movement looked strong and conf
ident. Just like the male players, but with an extra little flare.

  Crush kept a running commentary going. “All she needs to do is keep her head. That’s right, nice curveball to start him off. Getting the first pitch over the plate is the key. Nice one, too. Ball one, a little too high. That’s okay, shake it off, baby. Next pitch is all that matters. Might want to think about slipping him a fastball inside, with the way he’s hogging the plate… Oooh, ouch, should have seen that one coming.”

  After two hits, three runs, and three hard-won outs, Wendy was exhausted. But Crush was ecstatic. When Teri came running up to them, he gave her a big hug. “Nice job, kiddo, Real nice job.”

  “I got hammered,” she protested.

  “You were playing against a big-league team. They only put you in to see how you’d handle the pressure. You showed them, girl. You earned respect from every guy here, guaranteed.”

  More cautiously, Wendy gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I was so nervous,” she whispered. “But you were amazing.”

  Teri beamed, her face still glowing with sweat and effort. “I have a lot of work to do. Like, a lot. But it was incredible. I learn so much just from watching everyone. Did you see Bieberman make that play in the seventh inning? Wow.”

  “Don’t worry about the shortstop,” Crush counseled her. “Keep your focus where it needs to be. On the mound.”

  “Yes, sir, Homeless sir. Do you know when they’re going to make a decision about me?”

  “Honestly, the front office is keeping me out of the loop on this one, kid. They know how invested I am in this. Just keep your head down and work hard.”

  Teri nodded, but her gaze was already straying to the clubhouse. Wendy knew they’d set up a special room for her to change in. “I’m going to change, and a bunch of us are going to Chili’s tonight. It’s really just the players, so…”

  Wendy held up a hand. “Say no more. I don’t want to cramp your style. Have fun.”

  With a big grin, Teri jogged off to join the other Catfish.